After a big week at work I was kinda looking forward to having a quiet weekend at home, but my bestie convinced me to head out for Pride even if it was just to check out the parade.
London Pride was DAMP to say the least but in such a beautiful city it was hard to let the rain dampen our spirits.
It’s easy to think that Pride is about the flesh and the chaps but in the rain watching the marchers I couldn’t help thinking about how similar the messages were. Wherever I travel people around the world regardless of their sexuality want basically the same things, to have the freedom to love who they choose and to live in peace.
As I spend my time in one of the wealthiest countries in the world and watch the chaos both good and bad wrought by the Gay community I can’t help but think about those in the GLBT community still struggling around the world. It feels wrong throwing a party thinly disguised as a Pride event, then I feel bad thinking that way too because things are far from perfect even here. I guess I’m tired of the scene because it’s so far removed from the reality of what life is really like, or so I am beginning to think. Perhaps I’m just too old for it but for a boy who used to quite happily dance down the street in a Speedo I’m kind of over it and I’m still trying to figure out why.
Sorry for the downer, I know Pride means a lot to many people. I don’t discount it’s importance solidarity still has power.